Leigh smiled to himself as he remembered the visit when Charlie had smuggled in a few beers and a couple of kebabs. With Leigh’s head in a SOMI brace and unable to bend his neck, Charlie had smuggled in straws as well! The look on the nurse’s face when she’d walked in had been worth the scolding he’d got.
Charlie had looked after him when he’d been down and now it was his turn to look after Charlie … although it had to be through Fiona.
He pushed open the door into the pub. Once inside, he looked at his watch, then checked to see who he knew.
‘How’re you going, Leigh?’
‘G’day, Leigh.’
There was a chorus of voices. A couple of people came to shake his hand and ask if he’d heard anything more about the new mobile phone tower that was supposed to be installed. He gave them the standard line: ‘We’re waiting on confirmation from the government and Telstra. It takes time.’
He made his way to the bar, still nodding and saying hello to people. He liked this. It made him feel like a celebrity. Things had certainly changed from when he was laid out flat on his back, in hospital, worrying about his future, his farm, his career. Everyone wanted to know him now, but they didn’t back then.
‘Can I grab two bottles of sav blanc, Kristy, please?’ he said to the young blonde girl behind the bar.
Leigh handed her a fifty-dollar note and took the change and the bottles in a brown paper bag.
‘Hello, what are you up to?’ Jo appeared at his shoulder and gave him a smile before ordering a six-pack of beer to take away.
‘Heading out to Charona to help celebrate Carly’s birthday. They don’t know I’m coming, thought I’d surprise them,’ Leigh answered. ‘You?’
‘Oh, good plan! Carly will like that. I’m going out there, too, but I’m running so late. I went out to Geoff’s today to do some tissue tests on his crops and it took a lot longer than I thought it would.’
‘How is he?’
They gathered their purchases and walked out together.
Jo thought for a while. ‘Stoic, I think, is the best word for it. Almost pretending it didn’t happen.’ She paused. ‘No, that’s not right. More not thinking about it. Making sure there’s so much else going on he doesn’t have to.’
Leigh nodded. ‘Yeah, I’d say the same thing.’ Silence filled the air between them before he said, ‘Right, no point in standing about. See you out there.’
Fiona handed around a plate of chops and indicated for Jo to pass the salads. Eight women sat gathered at a wooden table, glasses of wine in hand, touching Fiona’s belly as she walked past and cooing over the patterns of baby clothes that Nana Carly was planning to knit.
‘Isn’t that just too sweet?’ Angela asked, pointing to a picture of a miniature pink beret Carly was holding out.
‘No point in knitting that one, Mum,’ Fiona said with a smile as she saw the colour. ‘This little one is going to be a boy.’
‘Oh no,’ Sylvia said. ‘You’re carrying too high. If it was going to be a boy, you’d be carrying really low, down in your pelvis.’
‘How can you tell?’ Leigh wanted to know. ‘I know she’s got a bump but surely you don’t know how she’s carrying?’
‘We’re old hands at this, Leigh,’ Carly said, grinning at him. Her cheeks were a soft pink, an indication she’d had more than one glass of wine. ‘We’ve seen lots of babies born!’
‘Are you always right?’
‘More often than not. You’d be surprised what we girls can work out between us!’
‘So, love, have you settled on a name yet?’ Monique asked.
Fiona shook her head as she sat down next to Leigh and loaded up her plate with salad. ‘Hamish for now.’
‘Hamish? Why Hamish? Surely something like Charlotte or even Charles if it’s a boy?’
‘Monique!’ Carly said with a frown. ‘That’s a little insensitive, don’t you think?’
Monique had the grace to blush.
‘Fiona, I am sorry. It came out without me thinking about it. I thought it was a away to remember Charlie.’
‘It’s fine,’ Fiona said picking at a splinter on the table. ‘I guess most of you would assume that’s how I was thinking.’ She gave a little half-shrug. ‘It’s going to be a boy, no matter how I’m carrying, and I’m sure I’ll get a feeling for the right name in time. But at the moment, I’m leaning towards Hamish.’ She didn’t tell them that at the end of a passionate love-making session she and Charlie had discussed names—even though they weren’t ready for children.
‘Do you want kids soon?’ she’d asked Charlie as his fingers had trailed over her stomach, tickling her.
‘Not yet. I want all the practice I can get,’ Charlie had answered. ‘We haven’t quite got it right yet.’
Giggling, she’d swotted him gently with the back of her hand. ‘I think we’re doing pretty well. Can you imagine what they’ll look like?’
Charlie rolled onto his stomach and heaved himself up on his elbows to look at her. ‘Like you,’ he’d answered, ‘your eyes, your nose—so cute.’
‘Haha, you know I hate my nose.’ She self-consciously touched her nose and tried to rub it away.
‘I want our children to have your nose,’ Charlie grinned at her. He leaned forward and kissed her. ‘Hamish for the boy and Emily for the girl?’
Fiona felt her lips turn upwards. ‘You’ve thought about it?’ she asked, incredulously.
‘Yeah.’ Charlie had turned serious. ‘But I’m not ready for a baby yet.’
Fiona blinked as she felt Jo nudge her. Looking around the table, she realised everyone was looking at her. ‘Sorry?’
‘But what if it’s a girl?’ Marge repeated, looking at her curiously. ‘You can’t be so sure.’
‘I am. It won’t be.’ She looked peacefully at everyone.
‘Fiona, have you talked to someone about putting locks on your door?’ Carly asked, changing the subject.
‘Not yet, but Mark thinks Rob—you know, the vet—might do it. I just haven’t rung to ask yet.’ She picked up her soft drink and wiped the condensation from the side.
‘Maybe that’s a job for Leigh, since he’s here right now?’
He straightened at the sound of his name. ‘Anything for you, Carly,’ he said with a wink, before turning to Fiona. ‘What’s this about locks?’
Fiona waved his question away. ‘It’s not urgent. Just thought it might be a good idea to have some locks fitted, since I am here by myself now.’ She wasn’t going to mention being frightened out of her wits sometimes.
‘I can do it, no problems,’ Leigh said, getting out his notebook and clicking his pen. ‘What do you want? Deadlocks?’
‘Honestly, Leigh, it’s fine. I’m going to ring Rob tonight. You’ve got more than enough on your plate. But let me tell you what happened two nights ago …’ She leaned forward. ‘I’m sure I heard the wild dog howling. In the distance, I mean, not close by, but I got out the gun just in case and went for a squiz around the yard. I only heard it once, so I can’t be sure …’
Carly looked as if she were about to faint. ‘You were going to shoot it?’ she asked in a shaky voice.
‘Well, yeah, Mum, of course I was. Far out! The amount of damage that bloody thing has done.’
‘I didn’t know you could shoot.’
‘I can shoot very well,’ Fiona said with a smile. ‘I’m just really pissed off I didn’t see it to get a shot away. Bastard.’
Carly blinked. ‘Fiona! Your language.’
Leigh intervened. ‘Two nights ago? Yeah, I thought I heard it too. I knew it had been around because I found three dead lambs the next morning. I’ve been laying baits, but none have been taken.’
‘I’ve heard a couple of other farmers talk about it down the pub,’ Jo interjected. ‘But no one wants to have a go at shooting it again because of what’s already happened.’ Her voice trailed off. ‘An old dogger I met ages ago told me it’s pretty unusual for wild dogs to take baits—li
ke they’ve got a sixth sense it’s poison.’
‘Domestic dogs love baits. I hope you’ve all got notices up saying you’re baiting?’ asked Sylvia, before raising her glass again.
‘Of course we do.’ Leigh looked at her, a puzzled frown on his face. ‘We have to. It’s the law!’ There were murmurs of agreement.
Changing the subject, Leigh asked, ‘Did you get many lambs off the other day?’
A smile lit up her face. ‘Yeah, Mark and I did. I was so pleased. They were bloody good. Got a really good price for them in the sale yards, too.’
‘That’s great. Hey listen, I was checking my pastures yesterday and noticed a few red-legged earth mites getting around. Have you checked any of your paddocks? Buggers will clean out the clover before you’ve got time to say, “Let’s order the chemical and spray!”’
‘Yeah, I’ve noticed a few in the pastures I’ve been checking, too,’ said Jo.
Fiona pursed her lips in thought. ‘I haven’t had a look, actually.’ She pushed some meat and salad onto her fork. ‘Better get out there and have a crawl around!’
‘Think it would be worth it,’ he advised.
‘Now, Leigh, you can’t be boring all of us old ladies with your farming talk,’ twittered Kay. ‘Baby talk is so much more fun. Oh, Carly, I can’t tell you how excited I was to hold my little granddaughter, Jaime. She was born five weeks ago. Look, I’ve got some photos here.’
Leigh stole a glance at Fiona and Jo, and rolled his eyes. They did the same.
He leaned over to talk to Jo. ‘You won’t be bored with my farming talk, will you?’ he asked seriously.
‘Not at all. I quite like hearing a language I understand,’ she joked.
Leigh switched his gaze to Fiona. ‘Actually, Fee, I’ve got something I wanted to talk to you about. You mentioned a while ago, you weren’t sure how you were going to cope with everything. I’ve been giving it a bit of thought. Maybe leasing is an option? Or even selling? Have you thought about either of those two options?’
Fiona’s jaw dropped. ‘You are kidding me, right?’
‘Nope. I’m not …’ He opened his mouth to continue, but she interrupted him.
‘Why would you want me to do that? I’m not going to.’
Her low, furious tone shocked him and he reared back slightly.
He saw Jo shift uncomfortably and quickly realised the situation had escalated from nowhere. He couldn’t help himself, though. Anger flooded through him. Jeez, he was only trying to help her. She could be so stubborn at times. ‘Right, you need to listen to me and hear me out,’ he fired back at her, in a stern but gentle tone. ‘I don’t want you to do that.’ He emphasised the word she had used. I was trying to find an option that might help you. This isn’t just about you. It’s about that bub that’s coming along, too.’ He looked at Jo and Carly for support. ‘Can you just make her hear me out?’
Jo snorted. ‘You know how determined she is when she makes her mind up about something!’
Carly just shrugged.
‘Hang on a minute,’ Sylvia spoke up, but Leigh talked over her.
‘Please, just listen to me,’ he said to Fiona but knew from her posture that she wouldn’t. She was glaring down at the table, her hands in her lap.
He pushed on anyway.
‘Sorry, Sylvia,’ he threw a quick, apologetic glance her way before continuing. ‘A newborn baby, not a lot of sleep, farming doesn’t stop.’
Fiona’s head flew up. ‘Bloody hell, Leigh, you don’t think I know that? Look at what I’ve just been through! Farming hasn’t stopped. Geez, anyone would think that Ian Tonkin has got you on commission!’
Leigh froze. ‘Sorry?’
‘Ian Tonkin,’ she said. ‘The real estate bloke? The one who’s been hassling me to sell ever since the funeral. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought you two were in bed together.’
‘I’m only suggesting this for your sake and the baby’s,’ Leigh said, his patience wearing thin. ‘It’s not like I’ve suggested it before, it was an idea that came to me a while ago, after you, not me, you were worried about coping with everything. Three mill sitting in the bank will keep you a lot more secure than the vagaries of the weather and stock prices. The baby will have your full attention at home. But he won’t be getting much of that when you’re running around treating fly-blown sheep or feeding the lambs because it hasn’t rained. Or seeding, or spraying … Do I need to go on?’
He watched as Fiona’s face suddenly changed, and she smiled at him. ‘I know you’re only doing this because you care, Leigh. I know you feel like I’m your responsibility, or something, now. But don’t. I’m okay to make my own decisions. Honest.’ She reached out and put her hand on his arm. ‘I’m not selling,’ she told him simply but firmly. ‘I can’t take this little one’s heritage away before he has a chance to work out if he wants to farm or not. There’re enough people around to help me when I need it. I’ll be fine. And I promise I’ll ask for it if I need to.’
Sylvia spoke up. ‘She’s right, Leigh. I know. My husband died thirty years ago. My children didn’t know if they wanted to farm at that stage and I wasn’t going to do anything until they knew. We’d worked too long and too hard to sell something they wouldn’t have a chance of getting back if they wanted to farm. You let Fiona alone. Just be there if she needs a hand.’
Chapter 6
Kim pushed the key into the lock and swung open the door. Walking into the roadhouse was an effort, but one that would be worth it. She had to find a new kind of normal. One that didn’t include sleepless nights and worry.
Her appointment with Chelle hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought. There wasn’t a conclusive diagnosis of breast cancer—she just needed more tests. An ultrasound first, then a biopsy.
Kim shuddered a bit at the thought of a biopsy; she’d heard they could hurt, but Chelle had assured her that not all of them did. It could be more a sensation of pressure than pain. She hoped hers was the pressure, non-hurting kind.
The lights flickered to life, and as she walked past the TV attached to the wall, Kim hit the on button.
Going through her routine as she did every morning, she turned on the deep fryers, got out the bread rolls and started to set up the kitchen for the morning rush. From the fridge she removed a chocolate mud cake and started to slice it into wedges in preparation for the after-sports crowd.
Saturday mornings always seemed to be about coffee, cake and hot chips. Sometimes bacon-and-egg or steak sandwiches, but not many.
Realising she hadn’t turned on the pie warmer, she stopped what she was doing and went out to the front counter and switched it on, before loading a few pies, pasties and sausage rolls into it.
The top-of-the-hour news came on the TV and reported a car accident that had killed two people on the Port Wakefield Road and how interest rates were expected to remain steady. She listened to it half-heartedly, wondering how everything was able to seem so normal when her world was about to change—or had already changed—forever.
Back out in the kitchen, she stopped, her fingers finding their way to her breast. She pushed them in, searching for the lump that everyone was telling her was there.
Again she couldn’t feel it. She couldn’t doubt the results—after all, Chelle had confirmed them—but shouldn’t she be able to feel something? Even if it was tiny?
The bell in the shop dinged as a customer came in. Kim pulled on her ‘game-day’ face, determined not to let anyone know yet what was going on. She hadn’t even spoken to her sister, Natalie, about it. Oh, and then there was her niece, Milly. That was a conversation she didn’t want to have.
‘Good morning,’ she said to the truck driver who had just walked in.
‘Mornin’.’
‘Dining in or take away?’
‘Just a coffee to go, love, thanks.’
Kim jotted down the order on the pad before asking about sugar and milk.
‘Neither, thanks.’ He handed over the m
oney and Kim went back into the kitchen to make it.
She’d just put the cup under the nozzle of the machine when the bell went again. She turned and looked through the reversible mirror and narrowed her eyes. Wasn’t that Fiona Forrest, the woman whose husband had committed suicide?
Kim hadn’t known either of them, as their farm was seventy kilometres from Barker, close to the larger town of Port Augusta. She could see the telltale sign of Fiona’s pregnancy pushing out the jacket she was wearing.
‘Won’t be a moment,’ Kim called and reached for the coffee cup lid, trying to gather her knowledge of suicide so she could be kind and caring towards her without overstepping the mark. It would be good to think about someone other than herself.
Dave hadn’t been involved with either tragic event, as they’d been away on holidays at the time, and then he’d been asked to take leave pending an internal investigation. She didn’t know the ins and outs of everything, as she would have if Dave were on the case.
Thinking about the two previous cases Dave had been involved in, the familiar feeling of indignation on his behalf swelled inside her. She still couldn’t believe the police department could make Dave take leave without talking to him and explaining the process. After everything he’d put into his job, the dedication. She frowned.
Clipping the lid onto the takeaway cup, Kim pushed open the swinging doors and handed the driver his order before turning her attention to Fiona.
‘How can I help you there, sweetie?’ she asked. ‘You look like you’ve got to eat for two! I’ve got mud cake out the back or I can put some chips on. They’ll be a few minutes if you want a serve of them though.’ Kim smiled as she shook back her hair and watched Fiona.
The woman looked at her with embarrassment. ‘I’m so sorry, but I’ve got this overwhelming craving for a meat pie! I never eat them, but I was passing and it just came over me. Guess it’s got something to do with being pregnant.’
Sapphire Falls Page 6
